


Torchwood Is No Place for the Weak or Plushy

by misbegotten



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Crack, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-27
Updated: 2010-01-27
Packaged: 2017-10-06 18:05:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misbegotten/pseuds/misbegotten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Ianto, am I a doll?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Torchwood Is No Place for the Weak or Plushy

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: "Dead Man Walking"
> 
> I read the Supernatural fic [Doll House](http://kellifer-fic.livejournal.com/87994.html) and... yeah. Sorry about this, Chief. If I had any artistic talent I would have just drawn it.

Jack Harkness had an uncanny ability to assess his surroundings before he had even opened his eyes. Finely-honed attention to scents, sounds, and psychic emanations that 21st-century humans largely ignored had given him the advantage in more than one unexpected situation. Like the time that Deruvian guy's three wives had turned up just before Jack could consummate the deal... either deal... and had threatened to--

"Ahem."

See, the _thing_ hovering next to him had Ianto's knack for guessing at exactly what point Jack's mind had wandered from the task at hand.

"Sir."

And there was definitely a Ianto-authentic edge to the voice that was trying to get Jack's attention. But Jack could tell that the thing wasn't Ianto.

For that matter, Jack wasn't entirely sure if he was Jack.

Reluctantly, Jack opened his eyes. "What the hell happened?" he groaned, raising a hand to shield himself from the unusually bright lights in his office. His body felt stiff and the movement was jerky.

The Ianto voice sounded sympathetic. "Tosh's box bathed everyone in its alien fluorescent glow and... here we are."

Jack squinted, groaned, and raised himself to stand up. On his desk, he realized. He was standing on his desk, as was the Ianto-thing. And he was made of plastic. What the hell?

"Ianto, am I a doll?"

"I believe the term 'action figure' is considered preferable."

Jack brought his thumb to meet his palm, but realized with some consternation that he couldn't actually separate his tiny plastic fingers. They still worked well enough for him to rub his forehead wearily. He gave his hair a tug -- short, but desperately in need of gel -- and noted that he was in the (also miniaturized) trousers, shirt, braces, and boots he'd been dressed in before. Beneath, however--

Oh, _hell_ no.

"Ianto," he hissed. "I don't have any -- you know --"

"Genitals?" Ianto supplied. "I'm finding it difficult to muster any sympathy, sir."

The stress on the last word was rather harsh, and Jack reluctantly met Ianto's eyes at last. His incredibly round, white stitched eyes, with just a pinprick spot of blue thread in the middle. His eyes, which were narrowed in irritation at Jack as if this was somehow his fault.

"I didn't do it!" Jack said reflexively and, before he could stop himself, "What _are_ you?" Ianto was about his height, but he was three times as wide, all purple fuzzy fabric and formless appendages. His suit, if one could call it that, was simply a sketch of pinstripes down the aubergine expanse of his soft body, and three sewed-on buttons. "You look like an amoeba."

"I appear to be some sort of cuddly toy." Ianto had shifted into a full-out glare.

"A cute, purple amoeba," Jack offered.

"Jack --" Ianto said warningly, but was cut off by clatter from the main area of the Hub.

"Bloody hell, what happened? Tosh? Gwen? Anybody?" There was a louder clamor of feet running up the stairs to Jack's office, and then Owen was looming over them, looking puzzled. Jack felt the world spin as Owen picked him up from the desk.

"Hey!" he protested. "Not so fast!"

Owen gave a startled oath and dropped Jack to the ground.

"Ow," Jack said, rolling over and touching his plastic nose, which didn't seem to have been damaged in the fall.

Ianto was peering over the edge of the desk, stubby arms on his non-existent hips. "Well, that was helpful."

* * *

"Why didn't it happen to you?" Gwen wailed, and Owen winced. Gwen had been transformed into an apple-cheeked, plump-bellied baby dressed in an incongruous black denim nappy. Unfortunately, though her pudgy face was fixed into a cheerful grin, every word she spoke came out in a kind of tinny, infant cry. The purply thing that seemed to be Ianto rubbed her back soothingly.

"Cos I'm not alive?" Owen ventured. For the first time in weeks, he felt like thanking Jack for his undead status. If the alternative was toy land, he'd take zombification.

Jack was pacing across Tosh's workbench, where Owen had perched them all. "That box that Tosh was working on -- was there anything else where you found it?"

Owen drew himself from his contemplation of Jack's stiff gait -- how did he walk without bending his knees? -- and shook his head. "It was just a guy's flat, had the usual middle-aged guy stuff."

"Except for the alien box of unknown origins," Ianto said wryly. Owen tried not to look at him; it was disturbing to watch the black line-stitched mouth attempt to produce Ianto's repertoire of expressive lip gestures. Fuck, it was disturbing that he'd even noticed that Ianto had a repertoire of expressive lip gestures.

"This is ridiculous!" Tosh burst out. She was perched on the edge of her keyboard, her tiny hands curled in frustration. She was Barbie to Jack's Action Man, with glossy black hair and impossible measurements. "This isn't science, it's... it's _magic_! You can't transform matter like this!"

"Twenty-first century science would seem like magic to someone in the Middle Ages," Ianto pointed out, but Jack shook his head.

"What are the alternatives, Tosh? Hologram-generator? Mind control?"

"Maybe it's just a bad dream," Owen suggested.

"Then which one of us is dreaming?" Ianto asked. When all eyes turned to him, he sighed and held out his stumpy arms. "In my dreams," he said stiffly, "I have opposable thumbs."

Owen snorted. "Look, I can go back to the--" He stopped when his foot hit something metallic that skittered across the floor.

"What was that?" Gwen whimpered. Owen lifted the object, a tin toy of remarkable detail, and put it on the workbench.

"Myfanwy," Ianto breathed. "She's not dead, is she?"

Jack reached forward and _twisted_. Myfanwy let out an indignant squawk and flapped her wings once. "Nah, you've just got to turn the key."

A wind-up dinosaur, Owen mused. At least he wouldn't have to feed her.

***

Tosh had been studying -- poking, Owen insisted -- the inner workings of the little black box when the green glowing light -- magical alien shite, per Owen -- had gone off. Owen was currently using a pair of very long tweezers to shift wires according to Tosh's direction. "Stop acting like it's a scalpel," Tosh said crossly. "You don't want to cut anything."

"I'll have you know I have a very delicate touch," Owen protested.

"I wouldn't know," Tosh shot back. "Let me see that yellow lead again." She leaned forward to get a better glimpse, gasped slightly, and drew back.

Alarmed, Owen put out a steadying hand on her shoulder. "You okay?"

She shrugged him off and muttered in Japanese. Fortunately the only one who could understand her, Ianto, was asleep on the other side of her computer monitor. Jack was curled up on Ianto's plush leg, snoring softly. It would have been cute, if she weren't so frustrated.

"Eh?" Owen cupped behind his ear. "You'll have to speak up, tiny one."

Tosh flushed. "I just can't bend down very far."

Owen's attention focused sharply. "Any other symptoms?"

"It's not a symptom," she snapped. At his look, she counted to ten internally and gave in to the inevitable. "I'm very top heavy." He continued to look puzzled, and Tosh waved a hand at her curvaceous figure. "Well endowed?"

Owen's lips twitched, but he didn't burst into laughter as she expected. "So if you bend too far--" He pantomimed a falling tree. "C'mon Tosh, where's your sense of humor? You're every bloke's dream."

Tosh turned back to the box and leaned in, anchoring herself firmly on the box's high walls. She avoided Owen's gaze. "That's just the point, isn't it? This isn't me. It's never been me."

Owen carefully nudged the wires, giving her a better look at the path of the energy conduit. "Who said I was talking about BarbieTosh?"

Tosh pretended she hadn't heard him, but couldn't help a small smile.

***

Gwen had slept fitfully (her Ma would have put hot sauce on her thumb for sucking it, she thought wryly), alternating between dreams of telling Rhys that he might have a baby around after all and a surreal series of episodes where she'd been sold as tat at a rummage sale and ended up locked in a cabinet in a doll collector's collection.

She was proud of herself that she didn't wake up bawling like... Anyway, when the air near the pool crackled green and coalesced into a six-foot door -- pine, she noted absently -- Gwen decided it was probably just another dream. Owen, however, had rolled to the side, drawing his weapon and taking cover before the doorknob started to turn, and Gwen pulled herself into a sitting position. Tosh was crouched awkwardly behind the black box, while Jack and Ianto played dead. Jack caught her glance and gave her a firm wink.

The figure that bustled through the door looked human, apart from the ridge down the center of the skull. It, _she_ Gwen decided, was dressed in a rather smart brown pantsuit and a high-collared white shirt. Her feet were clawed and painted with elaborate gold sigils. Her voice was no-nonsense when she spoke. "At last! I've been looking for that blasted box everywhere."

"Hold it," Owen demanded, leveling his gun. "Who are you, and what are you doing here?"

The visitor glanced at him. "Oh, um. Take me to your leader!"

Owen's lip curled.

"No?" She shook her head regretfully. "Very well." In a blink, there was a small metal rod in her hand, pointed in Owen's direction. Gwen bit off a shout as Owen fired, but the bullet sparked green before it could hit the alien and ricocheted away.

Owen dove to the floor, his gun still drawn. The alien made an unhappy sound. "Drat. Why didn't my twizenrod work on you? Are you sure you're sentient?"

Gwen thought she heard a light snicker from somewhere off to her left.

Owen drew himself up, not losing his bead on the intruder. "I'll ask you one more time, who are you?"

The alien sighed. "Does it matter? I'm here only to advance the plot, so to say. Never again shall our paths cross, et cetera, et cetera. I'll just take my box and go."

"Not until you change us back," Jack said from the worktable, and the alien blinked.

"Why Jack Harkness, as I live and breathe! Don't you look handsome." She cocked her head. "Perhaps not as flexible as I remember."

Jack grinned broadly. "You'd be surprised, Alena. Now, are you going to fix this?"

The creature shrugged and picked up Jack, setting him on the floor. Before Owen could protest, Jack raised a hand. "My friends, too."

She smiled and picked up Gwen gently, placing her next to Jack. Ianto hopped into her outstretched palm, while Owen retrieved Tosh and Myfanwy. "How did you do this?" Owen demanded. "And why?"

"You wouldn't understand the mechanics," she said firmly. She cocked her head again. "Actually, I'm not sure that I do either. As for why?" Alena bared her teeth in a vaguely predator-like way. "I have a very nice museum display for those who try to invade my home. Would any of you care to see it?"

"No," Gwen answered quickly, on behalf of all of them. Jack just shook his head and tapped his wrist, which was apparently a universal sign of impatience.

Alena touched the twizenrod to the black box, and there was a kind of shift in the air around them. Popping the top back on the box, Alena made her rod disappear and waved her hand toward the door by the pool. As it opened, rolling green waves of energy formed again and the room started to spin. "Lovely to see you again, Jack. Be sure to look me up the next time you're in my sector. But I'd call first."

***

When Jack awoke, Owen was already helping Tosh off the floor and Gwen was brushing dust off her clothes. "Thank god," Gwen said. Myfanwy cawed her agreement as she spiraled up the Hub, and Jack grinned. Gwen shot him a dark look. "Old girlfriend, Jack?"

"Hardly." Jack stretched extravagantly, enjoying the pull of taut muscles and crack of joints. "Well that was fun. Everyone ready to get back to work?"

Owen made a rude gesture and Tosh grabbed her purse. "Pub?" she asked Gwen, pulling on her jacket. The three walked toward the exit as Jack turned to Ianto, who was at the monitors displaying the holding cells.

"You okay, Ianto?"

Ianto tapped a finger on the monitor. "By my count, we're missing a Weevil."

Jack sighed and put his hands on Ianto's shoulders, splaying his fingers. _Just because he could._ "Alena always was a collector." He nuzzled Ianto's ear. "Shall we celebrate our return to normal?"

Ianto huffed softly.

"As normal as we ever get?" Jack amended.

Ianto turned in his arms to face him. "It is good to have thumbs again."

"By all means, then, let's put them to good use."


End file.
